


I Adore Everything That You Are

by solangeloandotheradorablethings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Everyone Is Gay, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Gay, M/M, solangelo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-10-01 09:14:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17241569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solangeloandotheradorablethings/pseuds/solangeloandotheradorablethings
Summary: Accio Soulmate





	1. Number 1: Your Eyes

Nico didn’t  _really_ want to be friends with the blonde boy. He was annoying and his clothes were too bright, voice too loud; always playing hero with an obnoxious smile plastered over his stupid face,

Nico had watched him from the curtains of his ink black hair, letting his younger sister, Hazel, fuss with his robes as his slightly older friends shoved each other around; mouths twisted in smiles.

He was alone. The blonde boy.

The older man beside him, his father, probably, seemed more interested in himself. The boy didn’t seem to mind. His hair was as blonde as sand and his shirt was too big and too orange and his eyes were,  _very_ , blue; indescribable, unique.  _Annoyingly_ unique.

“Neeks?” Jason pestered, Gryffindor scarf covering the scar on his lips, “Who’re you looking at?”

Nico didn’t particularly care enough to let his friend invest in an unrealistic love story that didn’t exist, so he shrugged in response, waving Hazel off as she began smoothing down his uneven waves of hair, “Nobody,” he mumbled,

“Are you excited?” Jason prompted, Nico shot him off with a look; of  _course_ he was excited, a home that was finally to be  _his_ , a  _home._  He would have ignored the older boy further still if not for the pouty eyes and eager smile,

And so Nico lost sight of blonde curls and a white smile.


	2. Number 2: Your Words

Nico di Angelo was a Hufflepuff.

The angel with a devil’s glare and brooding eyes contorted with unexplained resentment. It was funny at the time. Just a little after the sorting hat had claimed Will a Gryffindor.

But a lot could happen in one year.

Like a not-so-little crush and not-so-short stares in every class they had together. Their eyes wove so many mixed messages it  _hurt_ to decipher them; hatred, longing, disgust, fondness, disbelief; maybe even a little love, if they looked long enough.

It seemed that it was every day the two were caught bickering in the midst of crowded hallways over things like untied shoelaces and silly little hexes. Even the professors had begun placing bets on when they’d pull each other beneath the bleachers and snog their faces off,

They never would, obviously. Someone with eyes as intoxicatingly, dangerously, heart-achingly lovely as Nico would  _never_ be caught with someone like  _Will_. His eyes were watery blue, his skin was tanned, his freckles were everywhere;  _he_ was forgettable.

That was, until Nico caught him pinning a Ravenclaw against a wall in an empty corridor. Then Will’s face wasn’t as forgettable as he would have liked it to be,

“Death boy!” Will snapped, trailing in pursuit of the flash of olive skin and a black and yellow tie, “ _Look_ at me.”

Nico didn’t want to. He just wanted the funny feeling hurting his heart to go away. He wanted the butterflies to fall and the blushing cheeks to fade. He wanted Will to be  _straight_. And yet he did not know why.

“What?” he felt heat prick his eyes and burn his mind, and yet he did not know  _why_ , 

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not-” there was a watery fatigue weighing Will’s voice, and so Nico turned, “I’m not ready, yet.”

Nico stayed quiet after that, “I’m gay,” Nico whispered after his legs grew numb,

Will gave an odd smile and their eyes filled with fondness, “Thank you for telling me, death boy,” he said softly,

“Anytime, sunshine.”

They didn’t argue about much after that.

The bets were getting to 14 galleons.


	3. Number 3: Your Laugh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have -0 expectations

It had been two years and Nico and Will became the running joke of the entire school. There were  _conspiracy_ theories about the two of them for Christ’s sake,

One particularly amusing one being that the two were actually demigods; Nico a son of Hades and Will a son of Apollo.

 

Greek gods.

 

Ridiculous.

 

It was also ridiculous that it was 2:46 am and Nico was craving to stare at the lone freckle beneath Will’s lips like a sexually charged osmosis. Not that he wanted to actually  _engage_ in said activity. He didn’t  _like_ Will. Not in  _that_ way. Obviously.

They were hardly even friends.

Just acquaintances who occasionally share a bed as they bond over their mutual fear of thunderstorms. And braid each other’s hair when there’s a bunch of flowers that are just  _there_. And maybe sometimes sneak out to the very start of the woods to let the cold swallow them as they watch night fall like rain across the school,

 _Hardly_ friends.

 

Will always seemed to know when Nico needed him. Like now as he sat cross-legged in front of the fat lady, freckled skin adorned in hideous yellow-flannel pyjamas, “Had a feeling you’d come here,” he teased as he crooked a smile,

Nico scowled, “You have a tracker on me or something?” he sat beside the blonde, fiddling with the drawstrings of his black hoodie,

“Something like that,” Will chuckled, he paused; studying the goosebumps settled over Nico’s bare legs, “Aren’t you cold? Why are you wearing shorts in this weather? You’re  _shivering_! Here, take my shirt”

Nico snorted, bumping their shoulders together, “Then you’ll be cold, idiot,”

Will chewed his lip in thought for a moment before a grin, the kind that sent discomfort shuddering through Nico’s body, took hold of his features, “I’ve got an idea,” Will smirked as Nico groaned, noting how most (read: all) of Will’s ideas ended with pain, tears, confusion and general panic,

“Whoa- Solace! What are you doing?” Nico pulled away from Will as the other boy began unbuttoning his shirt,

“Would you just trust me?” Will sighed, Nico relaxed; he trusted Will, for some godforsaken reason to regret, “You should be wearing warmer clothes, now get in here,”

After a great deal of whining, protesting and shuffling; the Italian snuggled into Will’s bare chest, Will’s shirt buttoned around them making a disturbing cacoon of human flesh,

It didn’t  _really_ matter how cold the floor was beneath them, or how Nico’s knobby knees kept pushing the buttons undone, or how Will’s breath was uncomfortably warm against Nico’s neck.

 

It didn't matter even when Nico awoke to unfamiliar surroundings, a bed that was not his and a particular Gryffindor with his arm wrapped around him.


	4. Number 4: Your Lips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it gets worse xd

Stupid Nico.

How was Will supposed to sit through breakfast, staring up at the non-existent ceiling while Nico god damn di Angelo sat with bruised knees, a split lip and a scar twisting down his neck?

“What happened to Neeks?” Will muttered to Jason, who always seemed to be with the boy,

“Why do you care?” Jason smirked, wiggling his eyebrows, “I don’t know, he wouldn’t tell me,” he admitted after the glare Will threw was nothing short of threatening,

“Idiot,” Will growled, not sure whether it was directed at Jason or Nico. He threw his toast back onto his plate, getting up from his seat and striding over to Nico, “Oi,” he hissed,

Nico broke free from the conversation he’d been having with his half-sister, a girl with dark skin and kind eyes, “Can I help you?” his voice cool, wincing as his movements stung his wounds

“What happened? Why didn’t you come to me? Those don’t look treated, they’ll get infected!”

Nico rolled his pretty black eyes and swept his pretty black hair behind his pretty, pink-tinted ears, “Some kid was giving shit to Hazel and I swung a few fists, it’s  _fine_ ,”

“Nico come with me,”

“Will-” Nico started, Will grunted,

Suddenly his hand was clutching Nico’s black and yellow tie and he was pulling the boy to his lips. He tasted Nico’s half-dried blood and his unhealthy breakfast of twelve slices of buttered toast; he was sure his own lips tasted of off-brand cheerios but Nico didn’t seem to mind,

Pulling away all too soon, Will scooped him into his arms and stalked towards the exit, “Don’t argue death boy,” he said, breathless,

“Never,” Nico replied, shock never leaving his face, “Sunshine.”

Will apologised for not asking for permission the entire time he dressed the wounds.

Nico made a mental note that kissing shut him up very well.


	5. Number 5: Your Sexy Hot Bod

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i regret everything

“I miss Will,” Nico muttered softly, Hazel and Frank stared at him with wild eyes, “What? It’s been hours!” he whined,

Frank raised a brow, unimpressed, Hazel crossed her arms, they looked like such a power couple; adorable, “It’s been  _seconds_ actually,” she sighed, flopping back onto the bed as Frank stroked her hair,

“He just left,” Frank added, smiling amused,

“You can’t talk!” Nico pouted, “Just because you have fancy terms for your relationship, doesn’t mean you get to bully me!”

Hazel’s face sobered, “You haven’t established your relationship yet?” she exclaimed, shooting up from Frank’s grasp, Nico shrugged in response, “Nico it’s been two  _years_ since your first kiss! And you’ve forgotten enough silencing spells for me to know you’ve already-” she paused, scrunching her nose in distaste,

“Had sex?” Nico offered, to his delight, turning both Hazel and Frank into a blur of blush streaked faces,

“ _Hanky panky_ ,” Hazel corrected, much to Nico’s distaste, “And also Will’s here,”

As if on cue, the bed dipped as Will sat beside him, brows furrowed miserably, “Will?”

“-I’m so sorry Neeks! I just thought that, well, you- because! I’m so sorry- I-” the blonde sucked in a huge breath, and a few more for good measure, “I thought that- maybe you wouldn’t like the labels I-”

“Will?” Nico whispered in a voice so soft and quiet that Will’s breaths nearly muffled it, “ _Would_  you like to be my boyfriend?”

And just like that; everything was okay again, “More than anything.”

“You owe me 50,” Frank whispered, trying to ignore the  _questionable_  scenario playing out in front of him.


	6. Number 6: Your Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware that this is not how it works, send help, I am in physical pain reading over this

It had been almost 3 years since the moss brown castle of Witchcraft and Wizardry had collected dust in their memories. Will had gone off to his special school in France to become a healer; leaving Nico on his own as an Auror,

They managed, though.

Every moment of their spare time sucked onto computer screens and writing letters shared by owls. Just a moment to see each other’s face, see their smiles and tired eyes brighten, read their thoughts and trace their handwriting; those precious moments that allowed time to stop before their horribly ephemeral universe went on its way,

The screen glitched for a moment, Will’s voice barely caught up with his moving lips, Nico’s own words were practically inaudible and yet they couldn’t possibly have dared to complain,

Balancing on a tightrope is hard enough without the extra weight of worry,

“Hey!” Nico had exclaimed, cheeks dusted with red, “Or should I say  _bonjour_?” he added with a ridiculously distorted French accent,

Will rolled his eyes, his movements sluggishly laggy, “Here’s the tea; you still suck at French,” he chuckled and not even the slow connection could fail to capture the delicate beauty of that sound,

“I could suck something else if you were here,” Nico winked,

Will hid his beet red face in his pillows, “Nico!” he whined,

“ _Will_ ,” Nico mimicked,

“Shall I teach you how to French?”

“Alright then,” Nico raised his brows expectantly, “Show me what you’ve got,”

Will cleared his throat in a  _very_ professional voice, “Tu es mon rayon de soleil, mon petit papillon, la lumière de ma vie,” he said in a wonderful smile, “Mais quelquefois; tu es un cochon.”

“I’m certain you just insulted me,” Will simply smirked in response, Nico let out a deep sigh, intoxicating Will from 1,562.4km away, “I miss you,”

“I miss you too, mon petit oeuf mignon,”

The smaller boy scrunched his nose, “What does that mean?”

“You’re an egg,”

Nico’s rakish face flattened, unimpressed, “I’ve changed my mind, I don’t miss you so much,”

Will pouted, “Nico!”

“Will!” a devilish smirk grew on the blonde’s lips and Nico’s voice grew of something with more desperation as he pulled out his wand, (that was  _not_ an innuendo, you perverts,) “ _William_ ,”

“Nico,” Will’s laugh was maniacal and Nico’s expression was fear,

“Do not-” Will dragged his finger up to the tip of the wand ( **not an innuendo** ) “Will I swear to-”

“Accio Nico,” he whispered,

“Fuck you,” Nico was able to sputter before being dragged out by a painful, invisible force; followed by a rather prominent string of curses,


	7. Number 7: Your Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :') please :') help :') me

The train station.

It only made sense it be there that Will would make his move here. After all; it was there that he had first been time consumingly captivated by a figure of pristine shadow and mundane,

Even now, he looked like mist. Like a figment of imagination fragile enough to disappear if Will touched him. Everything, from his trench coat to his boots to the small scar on the bridge of his nose was impossibly delicate. Breakably astonishing. Endlessly fascinating. Fragmented perfection.

And-

He  _existed_.

He wasn’t a disorientated memory or dream or nightmare or daydream. He wasn’t false vision from tricking eyes. He was  _real_. He was- he  _is_ \- he is right  _there_.

And so Will told him that. William Solace spilled every thought that marred his mind, that consumed his thoughts and tainted his heartbeat with irregularity,

And so Will asked, with every ounce of strength his hoarse throat and straggled heart could find, “Nico di Angelo, will you marry me?”

And so Nico cried, tears slipping from his eyes, the smile breaking blinding white in the emptiness of platform 9 and ¾,

And so Nico fell to his knee; black box in his hands, joining Will on the floor, laughter sweeping away the lingering doubts in Will’s heart, “I was already planning on it,”


	8. Number 8: You.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i hated writing this more than you hated reading this, can confirm

Fairy lights that spilled golden tints, ceilings of fairyfloss clouds and orange-lemonade sky, flowers the colour of blood and cherries. A beautiful boy with sparkling blonde hair nervous with patience. He was quite pretty, with his quaint yellow suit the colour of ducklings, adorned with pale kisses of glitter; with the way his water blue eyes shone with the night’s radiance as a familiar face smirked his greeting from across the venue,

Nico had only seen Jason cry three times that month; once during The Lion King movie re-runs, once when he whispered goodbye to his mother with the rain-stained gravestone and once when he’d asked him to walk him down the aisle. This would be the fourth time, it seemed, as Nico caught a glimpse of glassy eyes and a quivering smile, arms looped together as they strode rather importantly.

When Nico was little, a lot smaller than he was now, he used to dream quite fondly of his big day: he would have worn a bright orange space suit with a dragon on the chest, his mother would smile proudly at him from the front while Bianca piggy-backed him down to greet his beautiful husband; Frederico from kindergarten. But-

This? He didn’t mind. He quite liked how firmly Jason held his arm, how proud his grin was and how bright his eyes shone. He liked seeing his sister Hazel and his pretend mother Reyna and even Frederico’s first replacement, Percy, smiling at him from the front row. He was much more fond of his black sequin suit, the kind that changed colour when you run your hands down; he’d outgrown the colour orange years ago.

And, he most certainly did not mind kissing Frederico’s third and final replacement, Will, “I do,” at the altar.

“Neeks?” Jason whispered, voice slurred from the suspiciously blue punch, the little scar on his lips forming a lop-sided smile, “Who’re you looking at?”

Nico’s feet hurt from dancing so much and his hands were all clammy, he’d almost missed Jason’s question from the floatiness he felt; like a teenager, like a child, like a boy in a train station on platform 9 and ¾, “My everything.” Nico answered simply,

This time, he didn’t lose sight of sunlight curls and brilliant blue eyes.


End file.
